Long, Long Trail
by Bellairian
Summary: Almost everyone in the room - Jack, Phryne, Cec and Bert - had a long history with this song. It could be joyous for reunions, heartbreaking for partings, comforting for memorials. Mrs. Stanley didn't recognize it but now the song was a part of her history too.
1. Jack's Long Trail

The first notes sounded. Oh god. Not this song.

 _Nights are growing very lonely,  
_ _Days are very long;_

His eyes snapped shut and his chin jutted out as he steeled himself to suppress an involuntary onset of tears and a tidal wave of emotion.

 _I'm a-growing weary only  
_ _List'ning for your song._

Jack Robinson and this song had a long and miserable history, one that he had managed to tamp down for years, and memories of it came rushing back.

This song was the anthem of his past – love, marriage, war, failure – and he had never wanted to hear it again. He had come so far since the last time he heard it, worked so hard to distance himself from those memories and now fate… or was it something else even more cruel than fate? was conspiring to lure him into despair again.

 _Old remembrances are thronging  
_ _Thro' my memory_

Images flashed against his closed eyelids like a film in fast motion. He was powerless to stop watching.

Rosie, laughing. Tugging her to a secluded corner, kissing until they were breathless.

Family dinners and promotions and making love until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

A field hospital concert, voices floating through a freezing, still night.

Tears and frustration when the children who would fill the empty places never came.

Their last Policeman's and Fireman's Ball, Rosie stiff with anger in his arms and his father-in-law's furious eyes tracking them around the ballroom.

Working long and late hours to avoid the jibes and accusations.

Withdrawing until the only thing he heard were the windows rattling when she slammed the front door the third and final time.

A house barely inhabited, its rooms cold and silent.

Standing in court, agreeing to whatever she wanted, guilty of failing her.

 _There's a long, long trail a-winding  
_ _In to the land of my dreams,_

A soprano rose over the male voices and his subconscious latched on to it like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline.

 _Where the nightingales are singing  
_ _And a white moon beams._

In the split second it took to open his eyes he could hear hope in the words again.

 _There's a long, long night of waiting  
_ _Until my dreams all come true;_

Even if he could never tell her, even if she never knew, she had given him moments of redemption and happiness and laughter. He listened to her sing and let her sweet voice wash away the past.

 _Till the day when I'll be going down  
_ _That long, long trail with you._

-ooo-

 _A/N: I had never heard the song There's A Long, Long Trail before the Death and Hysteria episode. Since then I've encountered it three more times: in an episode of The Crimson Field, an episode of M*A*S*H, and the book I'm reading 'To Serve Them All My Days' by R.F. Delderfield._

 _It's a haunting and beautiful song and now I hear it in my mind when I least expect it._

 _There's A Long, Long Trail was written by Stoddard King and composed by Zo Elliot and was published in 1914. The song was popular in the years during and after WWI. The lyrics, melody. and arrangement of There's A Long, Long Trail as published before 1923 (and as presented in this story) are in the public domain in the USA._


	2. Mrs Stanley's Long Trail

_Thank you so much for your reviews of the first chapter!_

 _Spoilers for S3E5, Death and Hysteria._

-ooo-

Mrs. Stanley didn't recognize the song at first. Sentimental ballads were not a staple of society events, even during the years of the war.

 _Nights are growing very lonely  
Days are very long;_

But the melody and the words were beautiful and haunting and she was unable to withstand the weight of her grief.

 _Old remembrances are thronging  
Thro' my memory_

She was powerless to suppress her tears and memories she had tamped down welled up, as clear as ever.

 _Till it seems the world is full of dreams  
Just to call you back to me._

A golden-haired infant, all plump arms and legs and rosy cheeks, beautiful and angelic in sleep.

Knowing, in her heart of hearts, something was not right.

Growing unease when his toddler body and mind didn't work as they were meant to, utter despair with a diagnosis they never would.

Unwilling to try again, terrified it would happen again, her heart breaking as her husband left her bed.

Refusing to give up her child, refusing to give up on her child, she kept him close.

Whispers and innuendos from those who couldn't understand. And didn't want to.

A parade of nurses who couldn't cope. Or didn't want to.

Her first born son, in whom all their hopes and expectations rested, racked by embarrassment and resentment of his younger brother.

Her niece, willing to fight any and all who would deny her cousin the right to play, to be a child, to simply be himself.

His pure joy with the simplest things – sweets and scallop pie and the lightness of his unwieldy body floating in the swimming pool.

A playroom, once inhabited by a child in a man's body, now vacant and silent.

A soprano rose over the male voices and she could find peace in the words.

 _I forget that you're not with me yet  
When I think I see you smile._

She drew comfort from her most unlikely acquaintances – two cabbies (Communists, no less!), a lady's companion, a policeman. All of them had accepted her son without judgement and were here to honor his memory.

 _Where the nightingales are singing  
And a white moon beams._

She had done everything in her power to give her son a happy life, to care for him and love him and shield him from ugliness in the world. She listened to her niece sing and let her sweet voice wash away the sorrow.

 _Till the day when I'll be going down  
That long, long trail with you._


	3. Phryne's Long Trail

_Only the first four lines of the song and the full chorus were sung in the episode. I invoked poetic license in the preceding chapters and included a few more lines and I've done the same in this chapter._

-ooo-

 _Nights are growing very lonely,  
Days are very long;_

When was the last time she had sung this song?

 _I'm a-growing weary only  
List'ning for your song._

It must have been in France, on a night the canteen doubled as a concert hall. She had been exhausted and depressed, wondering how, or if, any of them would ever make it home, not believing they would.

A young private, bandaged and bruised but not broken, had raised his eyebrow at her and given her a cheeky once-over. And winked.

She had been so surprised he could still feel mischief and fun and desire that she vowed she would feel them again too. It had been a life-affirming moment and she had winked back at him for the sheer joy of seeing his smile.

 _I forget that you're not with me yet  
When I think I see you smile._

Cec clutched his cap as he sang, his voice hitching with emotion now and then. The song would be a reminder of war and loss for him and Bert too.

Bert, loving and sweet under a gruff and rough exterior, had his arm around her aunt, tenderly watching over her.

Dot was too young to really remember the war but she understood when compassion was needed and gently held the older woman's hand as a further reminder her she was not alone.

Jack had his eyes closed and his jaw set. Of course he would know this song. It would be a reminder of war and loss and probably also his marriage.

 _There's a long, long trail a-winding  
Into the land of my dreams,_

Her Aunt Prudence was transfixed, shoulders shaking, tears rolling down each cheek. She had fought long and hard for her son and her heart was well and truly broken.

Phryne sang for her aunt, to remind her she had been the best mother Arthur could have had.

 _Where the nightingales are singing  
And a white moon beams._

She sang for the losses she and Jack and Bert and Cec had endured at home and at war.

 _There's a long, long night of waiting  
Until my dreams all come true;_

She fought back her own tears and sang for Arthur, whom she had loved and defended with equal fierceness.

 _Till the day when I'll be going down  
That long, long trail with you._

She saw the veil of heartache lift from her aunt's eyes and felt her own sorrow wash away too.


	4. Two Heroes

_Both verses of 'There's A Long, Long Trail' plus the chorus are included in this final chapter._

 _And now, the real heroes of this story…_

-ooo-

Bert and Cec had firsthand experience of the song's power to uplift, to soothe, to console. Over the years they had sung it dozens of times at sing-alongs in the army and at their RSL club and at wakes at home and abroad.

 _Nights are growing very lonely,  
Days are very long;_

The song was joyous for reunions, heartbreaking for partings, comforting for memorials.

 _I'm a-growing weary only  
List'ning for your song._

They hadn't known Arthur well. They knew very little of his life or his foibles or if he had dreams, only that he was a child imprisoned in a man's body that didn't even work properly. But, like the Inspector and Dottie, they had been touched first by Miss Fisher's love for her cousin and then by Mrs. Stanley's love for her son. In their brief acquaintance they had treated Arthur with care and respect.

They wondered what they could do to help when it became clear Mrs. Stanley was not coping well with her son's death.

 _Old remembrances are thronging  
Thro' my memory_

They speculated the formal, stilted memorial service had done Mrs. Stanley more harm than good. They weren't convinced that doctor was helping either.

 _Till it seems the world is full of dreams  
Just to call you back to me._

Bert had tried to broach the subject with Mrs. Stanley in a roundabout way, and had been admonished, sharply, that she didn't want him discussing her son. His response that pretending the dead hadn't existed was wrong had been even sharper, almost adversarial. A hint of anger and frustration had flared in his eyes before he turned away from her.

Arthur hadn't been a relation or a fellow digger or even a mate but he deserved better.

 _All night long I hear you calling,  
Calling sweet and low;_

Celebrating life was the best way Bert and Cec knew to cope with heartbreaking loss. What was needed was a proper sendoff with music and food and tears and laughter and stories shared by those who had known him.

 _Seem to hear your footsteps falling,  
Ev'ry where I go._

The plan was for Cec to organize the gathering and sing Arthur's favorite song. Miss Fisher's task was to bring her aunt in. Bert's job was the hardest – convincing Mrs. Stanley to stay.

 _Tho' the road between us stretches  
Many a weary mile,_

He presented her with a dish of Arthur's favorite scallop pies, reassuring her there was nothing wrong with missing her son or celebrating his life. He knew there was hope when she admitted her prayer for scallop pies in heaven instead of walking out of the room.

 _I forget that you're not with me yet  
When I think I see you smile._

He offered her his compassion and his arm.

 _There's a long, long trail a-winding  
Into the land of my dreams,_

He stayed quiet and close as her eyes filled with tears.

 _Where the nightingales are singing  
And a white moon beams._

He wrapped a comforting arm around her as the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

 _There's a long, long night of waiting  
Until my dreams all come true;_

He held her as her shoulders shook with silent sobs and his own eyes stung with tears

 _Till the day when I'll be going down  
That long, long trail with you._

He led her to the group beside the piano when the song was over.

The circle opened and they became a part of it. Laughter rose over the hum of stories being shared.

"Thank you," she said again, quietly, just to him, and he no longer saw shadows in her eyes.

-ooo-

 _A/N: Thank you for reading this story. I grew very fond of Aunt Prudence and Arthur in my S1/S2 stories and I wish we could have heard more of this beautiful song and Anthony Sharpe's lovely voice during the episode._


End file.
